Dope Girl 2: Just like daddy

by Sa'id Salaam

  The filming began in her mouth as he ran his erection in and out. He stopped just short of climax and entered her box. A few strokes later he filled it up as he climaxed. After a brief rest he was ready to go again.

  "One hole left." He announced to the intended future audience and flipped Meisha on her stomach.

  ****

  "Well, let's see what cha working with." Jackie mused as she tugged the shorts off the sleeping athlete.

  "Dang!" She frowned at the nice size dick that fell out.

  She came to fuck him and would have had a ball riding it. After playing with it for longer than she really should have, she sat it down and got to work. Jackie found what she was looking for in the bathroom and got busy.

  "First, let's do something with this hair." She said turning the clippers on.

  His curly locks came off cleanly with each pass. It was just like shearing a sheep as she shaved him bald. Next to go was the moustache and goatee. His eyebrows and pubic hair came off after that.

  "Now let's have a look at this wardrobe." Jackie announced. She retrieved a sharp pair of scissors from the knife set on the kitchen counter and went to his walk-in closet.

  "None of this will do." She laughed aloud and set out to destroy everything inside. Every pair of pants, shirt, shoes and belts were cut to ribbons.

  The sheets and comforter went next before she got started on the contents of the dressers. She was actually winded by the time she finished cutting everything that could be cut.

  “Wanna watch a movie?” she mocked as ahe picked one of the unmarked DVDs and popped it in. “Let's see what you were going to do to me.”

  Jackie literally felt her blood began to boil as she watched young girls being raped by Santana and his friends. One freshman lived down the hall from her and she remembered seeing her coming in one morning looking confused and disoriented. She now knew why watching three football players taking turns in her mouth and vagina.

  "I should kill your fucking ass." Jackie growled down at the man. Her thoughts ran from cutting his throat to setting the place on fire. "Nahh, I got something better for you. Your ass is going to jail!"

  Jackie collected the disks and poured water in all thirty thousand dollars worth of his electronics. She then went into the kitchen to destroy everything within, including the food. As she grabbed his car keys from the table his phone began to vibrate. Since she was taking it too, she decided to read the incoming text.

  "Just fucked this bitch nine ways to Sunday. I need to stop over and fuck that black bitch too. She still sleep?" Curt texted.

  "Oh no!" Jackie screamed and rushed out. She jumped in the Lexus and sped towards campus.

  Jackie pulled into the notoriously dangerous gas station near school and got out. Two goons saw her pull up and rushed over to car jack her. To their surprise, she left it running and took off. She ran the rest of the way to school, into the dorm, up the stairs, into the room and….

  "Oh no!" She cried at the sight of her friend.

  Cameisha was sprawled out naked on top of her bed. This was something the private girl would never do. Her eyes partially open just like Santana’s were from the drug. Jackie cleaned the semen off of her face and body and covered her up.

  "Come on and get some." She texted back to Curt and hit the closet. Once she found what she was looking for, she ran the ten blocks back to Santana's.

  Had Curt looked up, he would have seen Jackie enter the open apartment just as he pulled up. Instead he parked and ran up the steps. Curt knocked on the door eagerly in a rush to get at Jackie too.

  Jackie pulled the door from behind it so he didn't see her when he stepped in. Instead, he saw the ransacked apartment and his shaved friend. A confused frown spread on his face and he died wearing it.

  Two shots into his temple from the forty caliber pistol meant a closed casket. His family was going to have to pick a picture of him from happier times to blow up and put next to the casket. Maybe one with him smiling because he certainly wasn't smiling now.

  "I wish I could kill your fuck ass again." Jackie told him as she took his keys and phone.

  Jackie parked Curt's car in that same gas station and got the same results. A second pair of thieves rode off with his car along with a murder weapon.

  Chapter 9

  Jackie watched Cameisha stir awake the next afternoon with a heavy heart. She knew she had to tell her only friend she had been victimized, just wasn't sure how. Maybe she would start with the good news of Curt's death and Santana's arrest. Of course he would beat the murder charge but all of those sex tapes meant he was going to jail. Dumb ass documented hundreds of hours of date rapes that would be used against him. He was his own star witness.

  "The fuck yo? My head is booming!" Meisha groaned as she sat up in bed.

  Jackie sat back and watched her do the math as she put two and two together. An intense frown washed over her face as she felt her body.

  "Yo, I think....my stuff is sore, my…I think this nigga raped me? I'm all sore and can't remember shit!" She complained.

  "Think Meisha, did he fix you a drink? Did he give you anything?" Jackie urged.

  "Um, he came over, we had wine coolers and…." Cameisha recalled and leapt from the bed.

  She dashed into the bath and under the shower in a flash. Even though she never used a douche before, she grabbed the box that sat on the counter. After reading the directions she inserted it and flushed out the evidence left behind. She didn't know it yet but it wasn't needed anyway. Jackie had already tried, convicted, sentenced and executed the rapist.

  Cameisha was so intent on murder she didn't bother drying off. She burst naked from the bathroom and went straight for her closet. When her frantic search came up empty, she turned to Jackie.

  "Where my hammer at?" She asked, holding the empty box.

  "I threw it away." Jackie explained. Instead of a gun, she extended her hand containing a small white pill in her palm.

  “Fuck you mean, you threw it away? What the hell is that?" Meisha barked. She was equally confused by the answer as she was the pill.

  "Well, the pill is the morning after pill. Just in cast that bastard aint use no rubber." She explained hoping not to have to admit to murder. Now that's a hard pill to swallow.

  Cameisha snatched the pill and tossed it back into her throat using spit to swallow. "Now where my gun?"

  "I, um, I shot Curt in his head with it so it became a murder weapon. Murder weapons get dumped, so that's what I did!" She said flatly.

  "You killed Curt? Back on that Jack and Ill shit I see! This aint the time to play. I ne…" Meisha spazzed until being cut off by a frantic knock on the door.

  "Did yall hear? Did yall hear!?" Cynthia begged hoping she was first to spread the bad news. Black people, well, niggas are like news reporters and love to get the scoop.

  "Hear what?" Both Cameisha and Jackie shouted. Caught up in the drama she repeated.

  Cynthia wasn't just a drama major, she was a drama queen. Everything with her was a Broadway production.

  "Curt dead, Santana got locked up, yall got weed?" She laid out in one breath.

  "No!!" Both girls shouted at the desperate little pot head. Cynthia shrugged like 'o well'. She figured she may as well try since she had the floor.

  "So, they say Santana and dem was raping girls!" Cynthia announced. "See that's why I do like I do. Niggas aint good for but two things: Weed and dick. I'll smoke a nigga's whole sack, get me a nut and be gone."

  "I feel you." Cameisha said sadly. Sad part was that she really did feel her. In the state that she was in being a hoe sounded quite reasonable. "If you do find some weed let me know."

  "You smoke?" Jackie said incredulously. In the couple of months they had lived together, she had never seen her use anything harder than a wine cooler, which is only slightly harder than mouthwash.

  "If and when I feel like it I do, and I feel like it." Cameisha quipped.

  ****

  “This is a
dime sack!" Meisha screeched at the gram of ugly, brown, seedy weed her ten bucks purchased.

  "Yup, that's all Turbo had, that and some twenties that aint even twice this." Cynthia replied just as hot.

  The nerdy little dealer was making out quite well selling what little weed he could come across. The local projects were filled with drugs but far too dangerous for the college kids to venture in.

  Cynthia and Cameisha smoked both their bags of weed back-to-back and had nothing more than a bad breath and a slight headache to show for it. After a few weeks of puffing on bullshit, Cameisha decided to act.

  Cynthia's 'smoke a niggas sack and get me a nut' philosophy had begun to sound good so she thought why not kill two birds with one stone: One thug actually.

  Cameisha put the torn pieces of paper together and it spelled Pedro. It was written in the chicken scratch of a third grader but she wasn't in search of a tutor. She laughed and shook her head at the memory of tearing up the number, throwing it down, only to pick it back up. God made her work for it too by sending a wind that blew one piece under a car.

  At first she blocked her number when she called which was odd considering what she had in mind. She planned on giving up the goodies but would rather he didn't have her phone number. A quick one night stand would take the edge off and be done with it. When the call went straight to voice mail, she sighed and hung up. Then sighed and called back. The dope girl knew dope boys don't take calls from private numbers. This time she didn't block her number and got an answer.

  "Who dis?" The gruff voice replied sending a tingle to her lonely private parts. He frowned at the strange area code that could have been from the moon for all he knew. Have him tell it New York was just as far.

  "This the girl you tried to rob." She said curtly.

  Pedro paused for a second since they had robbed quite a few girls but smiled remembering only giving his number to one. "Sup lil mama?"

  “Tryna find some trees." Cameisha said revealing half her mission.

  "You tryna shop or you wanna hang out?"

  "Um, both I guess. Some kids here want a couple of sacks but what you talking?"

  "Shit, I can come through and scoop you so we can chill." He offered hopefully. Chill means fuck in his world so when she said 'ok', he knew it was going down.

  Cameisha felt a twinge of 'girl what the fuck are you doing', but didn't act on it. She was sinking into that black hole called, 'niggas aint shit syndrome'. If a good man doesn't come along soon she could spend years knowingly fucking with dudes she knew were no good for her. It's a vicious cycle and before you know it you're a lonely old woman. The woman, who constantly says, 'I can do bad all by myself' usually does just that: Bad, and all by herself.

  She found herself standing out on the curb along with the other girls niggas didn't respect enough to park and call on properly. When a custom boxy Chevy sitting high on 24" rims turned onto the block, she knew it was her date. If a good man doesn't come into the picture soon, she may be doomed.

  Pedro was not a good man. In fact, he was a piece of shit. He grew up a few blocks away in the same projects he still lived in. The grandmother who raised him never told him that one of the skinny crack whores who patrolled the area was actually his mother. He sold dope to her on plenty of occasions as a result. Good thing he wasn't the type to trick with geek monsters.

  That's not to say he was very proficient as a dealer, he wasn't. 90% of the males in the projects sold dope. It was a right of passage just as was prison and early deaths. Pedro lived to ball and fucked up his re-up more often than not. That's why him and his sidekick the 5'1" two hundred pound Big Shawty turned to the occasional stick ups.

  "Thought you wasn't gone call?" Pedro said making it sound like a question as Cameisha slid into the passenger's side.

  "Well, I usually don't mess with niggas after they rob me." She shot back.

  Pedro showed her his gold teeth and dimples in reply and put the truck in gear. Cameisha stole a glance at him in his ATL hood swagger and confirmed the fact that he was getting some. So what if he thought she was easy since she wasn't. It was just like Cynthia said, smoke his weed and get a nut: One time affair and business as usual tomorrow.

  "My people at my spot so I got us a room." Pedro announced as they rode. By his people he meant his grandmother, several cousins and two of his kids.

  The sexy hood had six kids by five hood rats and two more by college girls just like Cameisha. Luckily for those kids, their mothers retreated back to where they came, giving them a decent shot at a decent life. Hopefully clean air, good schools and proper upbringing can overcome the dumb he passed in his DNA.

  To sweeten the offer, he passed a neatly rolled blunt and pushed in the car's lighter. Cameisha accepted it and was right there when the lighter popped out. She lit it and inhaled deeply. The weed was a good mid-grade from Cali or Mexico and she savored the taste. A smile spread on her face from the warming glow that is THC. She smoked a quarter of the blunt before passing it to the owner.

  Cameisha almost protested when Pedro turned into the parking lot of a rundown motel. It was so shabby it looked like it had never seen better days. A couple skinny crack whores roamed wide eyed in search of a blast.

  "Here we go." He said seductively as he pulled to a stop in front of a room.

  Knowing she would back out if she stopped to think, Cameisha shut her brain off and got out. She waited as he fished the room key from a pocket and open the door. Cameisha winced from the aroma of the room as they walked in.

  The tobacco smell she could identify but it was mixed with cum, blood, sweat and of course tears. Still on auto-pilot, she moved forward. Pedro stripped her before removing his clothes. Foreplay was sucking her nipples as he finger fucked her. Once she soaked his fingers sufficiently, he took position between her legs.

  Pedro is, was, and always will be a rough neck and that's exactly how he fucked Cameisha. Her brain came back on once he plunged his thick dick inside of her. She realized he didn't put on a condom but the in and out felt too good to stop him.

  "Grrrll!" He grunted and filled her box as he came. He reiterated by hitting it a couple of more times before finally taking her back to campus. With a crisp hundred dollar bill from her purse, Cameisha bought ten ghetto sized dime bags. That's how it started, just like daddy.

  Chapter 10

  When the dorm room burst open without a knock both Cameisha and Jackie jumped to their feet and prepared for battle. The local thugs had recently started running in the dorms and doing stick-ups. Both girls wished they still had a gun.

  “You got any more? Tell me you have more!" Cynthia pleaded oblivious to how close she came from getting her ass kicked.

  "Nah, you got the last one last time you came." Cameisha lied. Truth was she still had a bag of the good weed but was keeping it for herself.

  When she showed Cynthia the weed she shoved a twenty dollar bill at her, snatched one of the sacks and fled. Cynthia was no dealer but as a fledgling addict, she was just as clever. She took the dime bag to her room, rolled a blunt out of it and made two dimes the size that Turbo sold. Actually, they were a little bigger and sold immediately.

  She smoked her free blunt and went back for another then another until none were left. The girl still had pinched enough for eight more free blunts, but that wouldn't last the pot head too long.

  "Might be over with yo." Meisha said causing Jackie to twist her lips. "What?"

  "Like you aint going back to see that nigga." She laughed as Cynthia slinked out of the room.

  "I'm not!" Meisha shouted indignantly. "One night stand yo. I got mine." She said even though she didn't. Nut or not she did enjoy the sex.

  "Please, that nigga had you limping in at two in the morning humming love songs. You going back!"

  "I gotta see him to get more weed but that nigga won't get this pussy. You heard me? He, will, not, get this pussy!"

  ****

  "Get this pussy!" Cameisha heard herself demand P
edro behind her.

  That's exactly what he was doing as he delivered textbook back shots. He had a fistful of her curls in one hand and the other on her waist holding her in place. He thrust hard solid shots making their skin slapping echo in the spacious room.

  This time he took her to his trap house. The back room was bare except for a mattress on the floor for just this occasion. Maybe if she knew how many skeezers and crack whores had been boned here, she might not have been with it. Might that is, because the bad boy was bringing out the bad girl in her. When the first orgasm of her young life shook her world, she was done. Love has a close cousin named whipped, be it pussy whipped or dick whipped, the symptoms are the same.

  "Mmm I gotta get back." Cameisha moaned but made no attempt to move. She really didn't want to go but didn't want to hear Jackie's 'told you so'. Still, if Pedro told her to stay she would have. If he wanted to hit again he could have.

  "Yeah, I gotta make some moves myself." He said, pulling himself out of her. Not only did he have some trapping to do but a date with a baby momma later. "You still need that?"

  "Um, yeah." Meisha replied sadly. She was in brief mourning from him taking his dick out of her life. "Let me get an ounce."

  "What you doing with all this weed?" He asked and lit a blunt.

  "Sell it! Them kids at my school smoke more weed than a lil bit."

  "Sho nuff?" Pedro asked and passed the blunt. The question was the rhetorical type since he knew the answer.

  All the thugs knew the college kids smoked hella weed, pills, coke and everything else but getting one on the inside wasn't easy. For one, the kids weren't street kids and often got caught. Once they did get caught eleven out of ten times they were going to snitch. The judges would give them a slap on the wrist but knock the locals’ heads off for corrupting them.

  "Tell you what?" Pedro said at the wheels spun in his head. "Why don't I just give you some work and you can sell for me!"

  "It's better to be the boss than be bossed." Her father's advice echoed in her head.